Keep Me Sane
by SirensandSeers
Summary: Fred died. George doesn't know what to do with his life. If he can even live without the other half of his soul. He's done pretending he is okay.But what if a little witch is determined to save him? What if she can't bring back Fred but she can give George a piece of him? Is life worth living anymore? Not post DH compliant. Warnings: Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture flashbacks
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer- This story is currently rated "T" but will move to "M" as the story continues. Death and panic attacks mentioned. The characters all belong to Rowling. She is Queen.**

Chapter 1:

Hogwarts was bleak after the war. The rubble piled high in places. The fear that once the rubble went away another body would be discovered. The bridge was destroyed and hanging in shambles. Windows broke out, stairways collapsed, and archways depleted. Walking through the castle was like walking through a cemetery itself. Even though the Light had won, the Dark reminded them that it was not without a price. The task of repairing Hogwarts seemed daunting but it had to be done. But not yet. First, the funerals had to be completed.

The Order, with the help of Headmistresses Minerva McGonagall, sectioned off a plot of land of Hogwarts for a cemetery near Dumbledore's resting place by the Lake. It only seemed fitting that those who sacrificed for the Light would find their final resting at Hogwarts, if the families so wished. First the funerals, then the cleanup; but the funerals never seemed to end. Remus Lupin, Tonks, Colin Creevey, Fred Weasley, Lavender Brown. They kept going on and on and at each one Harry Potter cried into his hands in the front row. Wishing that none of them had to die, that his own sacrifice would have been enough.

Today was no different.

Today was the last funeral before the repairs to Hogwarts began. It was the funeral of Fred Weasley and the last death of the Second Wizarding War. One that no one expected. The battle had been over for two days before the final victim had been murdered. After the battle, the Order had rounded up the Death Eaters as quickly as possible to go to Azkaban to await trial. Only one had been not accounted for. Marcus Flint had escaped quickly after Harry sprang out of Hagrid's arms. Realizing that it was his chance to survive the second part of the battle. It was of no surprise- the sneaky Slytherin never had much courage or pride. But what no one expected was for him to show back up again.

On May 5th, 1998 Marcus Flint stepped out of the shadows in Diagon Alley and sent a burst of green light towards the enemy he detested most. Ron Weasley died a death that nobody expected or deserved. The killing curse hit him in the back and he lay dead in the streets of Diagon Alley. Marcus Flint was apprehended within the hour. The Weasley's lost a second son in the war.

Hogwarts felt like home to many. And now was the final resting place of both Fred and Ron Weasley. Fred and Ron's funeral had the largest turnout of any of the Wizarding War. Press, family, strangers, the Order, and of course, George, Harry, and Hermione.

Kingsley Shacklebolt stood by the cemetery entrance and greeted the attendees as they filed into the space. Long faces greeted him but as minister he knew he had to persist in keeping the Ministry's spirits high. Though it seems far off, the Wizarding world would recover from the sadness that was now entered in.

"Hello." "Thank you for coming." "The Weasley Family thank you for coming." "Seating is open except for the first two rows; family only please." He greeted the people of the Wizarding War each kindly.

The ceremony began. Words were spoken. How kind each of them was. What a good brother they both were. The shenanigans Fred got into (these made George sob loudly in the front row). The bond between Ron, Harry, and Hermione (Hermione sniffled while Harry kept his head in his hands). The words kept pouring out, honoring each Weasley with the words they deserved.

Then the ceremony head said, "and now Hermione Granger will say a word about Fred and Ron Weasley."

Hermione stood up and walked to the podium. Her eyes puffy from crying but she was no longer crying.

"I met the Weasley family on my first train ride to Hogwarts. Fred and George came through the cart and made sure the First Years knew who they were. You could tell that they were twins, of course, and that they were pure trouble." She paused to gather herself.

"I met Ron within an hour of meeting Fred and George. I was looking for Neville's toad" quiet laughter from a few attendees that knew Neville and Trevor.

"At the time, I did not know that meeting these red headed boys would change my life forever." The crowd was absolutely silent but Hermione could see the tears of many from where she stood.

She drew in a breath, balancing herself, before continuing on, "Fred made my life happier. He drove me crazy. I can't te;l you the number of times I gave him detention for experimenting on first years. But he and George, you know they lightened the world so much the past few years. While Voldemort was rising they were allowing children and adults to smile again."

"Ron, he was special too. He also drove me absolutely bonkers. But in his own way. Some say he was the weaker of the Weasleys but I do not agree. Ron proved himself time and time again and there is no doubt in my mind that he was a powerful wizard. If he was given the chance to actually duel the person who attacked him, he would still be here today. Without Ron, none of us might be here today. He was a true Gryffindor. Courageous and brave and he did not deserve to die that way.

I know today is hard for many of us. I know it feels like though we have won, the sacrifice was too much. But I know Fred and Ron did not die for naught." Hermione's voice started to break, she was almost there. Let her finish this last bit before she went home to cry. _Sweet Circe,_ Let me finish, she thought.

"So let us raise our wands now for Ron and Fred. Though gone into the veil, never forgotten."

Hermione raised her wand, the tip bursting with red and gold sparks, for her Gryffindor brothers. One by one, though teary eyed and struggling, each attendee stood up. First, George than Harry. Then Molly, Arthur, Percy, Ginny, Charlie, Bill, and on and on until the crowd stood and sent off Fred and Ron with sparks of red and gold.

 **A/N: Hi! Hope you enjoyed chapter one! Please leave a** **review** **\- I'd love to hear from you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for the reviews for chapter one! I hope you like chapter 2!**

 **Disclaimer: All characters belong to Rowling- I don't own HP. She's Queen.**

George lasted at the Burrow for 6 hours after the funeral. He was _done_ with this shit. He was done with the pitying looks and the side glances. He was done with his Mother looking at him like he was a ghost. He was done with Ginny continuously asking if he was okay. He was done with fruit salad and pudding. He was done with Harry Potter telling him he was sorry over and over again.

 _He was fucking done._

Their continuous apologies were not going to bring back his brother. They were not going to bring back Fred.

"Ahh- George, George listen…" Bill signed into his cup of firewhiskey while cautiously approaching George.."Look mate, maybe you should go to shell cottage.. You look like ya might need to get away for a few."

"Shell cottage? Why would I go there? Aren't you and Fleur heading back there tonight?"

"Well yeah, but you could stay too. We have room for you. We don't want you to be alone."

George appreciated the gesture, he did, but fuck them if they thought he was going to be babysat like some fucking toddler. Nope, he was going home.

"No, I'm headed to mine and Fre- My flat." George gulped the rest of his Wizards Gin down at the mistake he made. Everyone had stopped their conversations and were watching George and Bill. Expecting George to break down again in front of them.

"George, dear," Molly broke in "maybe he's right.. Maybe you should go to Shell Cottage or stay here for a bit…"

"Why? So you can watch me like I'm going to die next? No fuckin thanks." George was _done._ So done with this bull shit.

"No! I just lost two of my sons- I won't have you going off to disappear too!"

"Well I just lost my fucking twin. So I'll do whatever I right please. Give my apologies to the rest of these swots who keep staring at me."

George stormed out of the front door. A dozen voices behind him yelling for him to come back, to apologize to his mother, to stay and don't leave. But he kept walking down the path. If he didn't go home now he knew he probably never would. He couldn't take another second in the house where he and Fred grew up. Didn't they know how it killed him? To look at the clock that he and Fred had once charmed to confuse the both of them? To see the picture frame covering the wall from the exploding snap explosion when they were in their 5th year? To stay in the bedroom where he and Fred had stayed up late dreaming of joke shops and products and talk about Katie Bell in a short skirt. Fuck _them_ if they thought that staying at the Burrow would be any better than staying at their flat. The flat, though theirs, had far less memories then their childhood home. Plus, at home he knew he had a gallon of firewhiskey waiting for him.

"George! George! Just wait one second!" Hermione Granger yelled after George right before he reached the Apparition spot outside the gate.

He didn't have time for Granger and her snotty know it all business. She had a problem with getting into business that wasn't hers. Even if she said some nice things at the funeral… he wasn't going to let her convince him to stay for his Mums sake. He turned to look at her and saw that she looked like right shite. Her big bushy hair looked bushier than normal. Her blood shot eyes were a sure sign that she had been crying again and that was what made him pause; the reminder that she was probably thinking of Ron when she chased after him.

"What is it, Granger?"

"Look, I know, you need to go. I wouldn't want to stay either. But here, take this. I meant to give it to you earlier..." She trailed off and fumbled into her pocket before she dropped a coin into his hand. It was one of the Galleons that had been charmed from Dumbledore's Army.

"Why do I need this? A token to remember how fucked up all of this is?" He sneered at her. He couldn't believe she raced out here to give him a bloody coin.

"Because, if you need anything just say my name into it. It will make my coin warm and I'll come find you. Just in case.." she trailed off for a second, looking uncomfortable and like she might cry. "Just in case you need anything, I want you to know that I'll be there."

George looked at her. She looked a hot mess, like she needed either 12 hours of sleep or a couple shots of firewhiskey. Her jumper askew; her usually upturned nose was red like she had caught a winter's cold. And her eyes, though red from crying, were still big and brown. Little Miss Know-It-All may actually understand a little of what he was going through but he still thought it unlikely he would ever use the bloody coin. For some reason, this made George angry.

He looked at the coin in his hand, clenched it in his fist and pocketed it. He once again, reminded himself that he was _Done_ with this crowd for a bit. He needed out.

"Thanks" was all he said before he stepped through gate and with a _crack_ , apparated to Diagon Alley.

Hermione watched George dissaperate with a sharp _crack._ Instantly she felt her resolve break. Whatever had been holding her together seemed to break when she saw him leave. She stumbled over to thebecnh right outside the Apparition point and put her head in her hands. Tears began freely streaming down her face as she thought of all that had been sacrificed over the last month and a half.

The war wasn't over. Not yet. They still had the cleanup at Hogwarts and they had the many trials of the Death Eaters. Plus, the trials of those who deserted the Death Eaters.. Like the Malfoys- what were they going to do with them.

Ron was gone. He was _gone._ And he wasn't coming back. She kept thinking it was a dream. Likes some sort of sick joke and that he and Fred were going to jump out and yell "surprise!" But they were gone and her last year with Ron had been a mix of emotions she couldn't even handle. When she started thinking about the past year with Ron her mind felt like it was buzzing. He died before they could even begin to talk about the kiss during the battle and she felt like she had all these unresolved emotions going through her head…

Despite what everyone thought, she was not in love with Ron Weasley. She had been in a lot of like with Ron but she never was in love with him. She loved the idea of them being together but like everything, Hermione had calculated it out. Ron and her would have been a nice couple but who wanted to be in a _nice_ relationship? She should look for true love, and passion, and dedication, and fire! And sadly enough, it took Ron's death for her to figure that out. Or maybe she knew it all along.. She wasn't so sure about much of anything anymore, despite what everyone thought.

Her mind was still buzzing, a million things continue to run through her head, and she realised she was sobbing uncontrollably into her hands in the exact same spot. Her body was trembling and she was having trouble getting air into her lungs. The room started to close in and it felt like there was an elephant sitting on her chest.

Bloody hell, she realized, I'm having a panic attack! She started to tremble even more and the tears were blurring her vision.

Harry appeared before her. Crouching down so that he was on eye level with her.

"Hermione, love, shhh. Breathe in, breathe out. Eye contact, love, breathe."

Hermione's heart rate slowly came down as Harry continued to coach her into breathing evenly. Her breathing started to come back to normal but the tears remained.

"Oh Harry, what do we do now. Ron's gone, Fred's gone, the Weasleys.. They, they…." she trailed off knowing that whatever came out of her mouth wouldn't be good. The Weasley's were all heart broken and they wouldn't mend overnight. Her magical family was crumbling around her and they were the only family she really had left.

"I don't know, 'Mione. But we'll get through. You and me, eh?" Harry's arms came around her and she put her head on his shoulder. They sat there in silence, holding on to one another, and staring out at the Weasley's orchard.

He was right, she realised, they'll get through, some how, some way. They always did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Rowling- I don't own HP. She's Queen.**

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George went through a routine in the weeks following Fred's funeral. Wake up happy and ready to start the day, remember the war, remember the look in Fred's eye when he died, remember that he is alone now. All happiness would quickly dissolve away. All brightness in his world that he woke up with quickly would disappear and he would be stuck thinking of the things that he most certainly did not want to think of. Death, destruction, war, and the inability to live without Fred were at the top of his list.

George would then pull himself out of bed and drag himself to the bathroom, ignoring the pounding headache he had from another long night of drinking. He stopped taking hangover potions after the fourth morning; he would savor the physical pain while he had it. Fred would take a long shower. Where again, his thoughts were surrounded by the fact that Fred wasn't there. He'd skip breakfast, he couldn't bear to eat in the morning when the reality of Fred's death was still so fresh in his brain.

He'd walk down to the Joke Shop, still in shambles after the war. He'd look around the shop and run his fingers down the isles of jokes, tricks, and magical toys that needed to be updated. He'd think of the plans and dreams that he and Fred had. He'd look at the tricks, the destructed Pygmy Puff cage, the dust covering the counters, and all he would think about is the fact that he had to do this by himself now. There was no other half to his jokes anymore and it felt like a cruel joke without a punchline. Half of his brain was buried at Hogwarts.

Verity had tried to owl him in the weeks after the war but George didn't think he would ever be able to owl her back. She'd left for France with her family to hide during the war, considering she was half-blood it was the best choice, and George didn't think he could bare to look her in the eye. He wasn't ready to commit to anything just yet and having an employee depending him was on the bottom of his list.

After checking the shop, George would go back upstairs. He would look around their flat; at the dragonhide boots thrown by the door that were not his, at the reading glasses hanging off multiple surfaces because Fred had started to need them more recently but wasn't ready to admit it to the world, at the notes scribbled on the counter that Fred had left, and at the cup sitting on the counter that said "Feorge" that Ginny had got him as a joke last year.

Then for the rest of the day George would lose himself in a bottle of Firewhiskey, or occasionally Wizards gin, until the memories stopped and he couldn't remember what day it was. He would drink until the room spun and he forgot if his name was George or Fred. He would drink until he forgot the war, the bloodshed, the people lost. He would curse himself over wishing that it was him who died and then regret it because he would never want Fred to go through what he was feeling. Mostly though, he would drink to forget that tomorrow he had to wake up and do it all over again. Tomorrow he would wake up and remember that Fred was dead. He would drink to keep away the dreams that haunted him if he went to bed sober. He'd take the pounding headache and the pain of the hangover over having to brave the busy potions shops for hangover potion.

He would finally stumble into bed and for some reason fall asleep clutching to dear life a coin that a bushy haired girl gave to him.

And the days would repeat, over and over and over again. A constant reminder that he was half a person without Fred Weasley.

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George woke with a start. Instead of waking up in bliss and then the sharp pain that his life fucking sucked; he woke up to pounding on his front door. He stumbled out of bed, still rubbing his eyes as the headache from the Firewhiskey flooded his head.

 _Who the bloody hell could be at the door at this hour? Fuck, what time is it?_ George glanced at the clock, quarter to eleven. Hell, he hadn't seen 10:45 since the war. And why the fuck was somebody knocking? The wards should keep visitors far away and his silencing charms should keep the noise away…. George moaned… _fucccckkkk…_ he forgot to reset the wards and the charms had worn off.

The pounding on the door continued.

"GEORGE! GEORGE WEASLEY, YOU OPEN THE DOOR THIS INSTANT"

More pounding. George was looking for his want- going to throw up a silencing charm and go back to bed, they would go away eventually, right? George heard rustling outside the door and someone mumbling to themself.

"Oh fuck it, _Alohomora."_ Hermione Granger opened the door with a simple spell that even a first year could do. _Hell,_ George thought, his spells must have been long overdue if _Alohomora_ was able to unlock his door.

Grander stood and stared at George. He looked like hell, to be quite honest. His hair a little longer than normal, his eyes sunken in, his clothes dirty, and he looked to skinny. Skinnier than George usually was. The muscle he had built up in his latter teens and early twenties was gone and he looked like a pile of bones. He just stared back at her, arms crossed, and a blank look on his face. He looked weak, a trait that most Weasleys did not employ.

Hermione sighed. "George, you look horrid. I've been owling you for days, as has your mother. Your one worded replies to her, at least, are not much to go off of. Why haven't you been writing back? And I've knocked on your door no less than every other day but I bet you forgot to put your wards up this time! That's the first time _Alohomora_ has worked! Ha! Oh George, have you been eating? You look so thin. You look like you haven't ate in days, can I make you a sandwich? And you need a haircut, eh? How about we go down to Diagon Alley or pop over to the Burrow and get it done? And jeesh, George, how about pick up the place a little bit…"

All the words came rushing out at once while George just continued to stand and stare at moved to clean up a bit and went to reach for the boots lying carelessly beside the door.

"NO!" George yelled and lunged in front of the boots before she could reach them. Hermione reared back, shocked, with wide eyes.

"Don't move them.. They.. there are… er.. were Fred's. He left them there." George stumbled over his words, his voice raspy from lack of talking the past weeks and the pain of admitting why they were left there in a careless heap.

"Oh, George. I'm sorry.. I won't touch anything.. I'm sorry, okay?"

George let out a sigh, "What do you want, Granger?"

"I told you.. Your Mum.. she's worried about you. I've been owling for weeks and haven't heard a thing!"

"I owled Mum back the other day."

"Saying 'I'm ok' and nothing more will not do for Molly. You know that."

"Well, I am. I'm doing fine. I just don't need my meddling mother to fawn over me right now."

"You don't look fine, George" Hermione whispered. She was thankful he was talking but she didn't really feel like the conversation was going the way she had planned. George seemed surly but also emotionless. He seemed so tired, like this conversation was taking all of his effort.

George shuffled his feet and looked down, unsure of what to say to get Granger off his back.

"I'm fine, Granger. Go home and tell Mum that I'm a jolly chap and to stop sending owls every bloody day."

"You're lucky you haven't got a howler. Charlie's gotten two." Hermione said stiffly with her arms crossed.

"What do you mean, Charlie's gotten two? Why would Mum send him a howler? Isn't he home?" George demanded. He had figured out of all of his brothers, Charlie would be the one to take care of Mum. He was the favorite, after all.

"Well, no, Charlie went back to Romania not long after Ron and Fred's funeral…" Hermione trailed off briefly.."Charlie, he didn't really know how to help, or what to do. With Ron and Fred gone and Molly a mess, and you… he just left one morning and left a note on the counter."

George stared at her, he seemed to be doing that a lot. He was stunned that he forgot to put him his wards, that she got in, that she kept dropping news on what was happening. He wasn't prepared for this. He couldn't deal with this. He was barely keeping himself together, he couldn't keep the rest of the family together too. It was too much. She needed to leave. She needed to not come back.

"Leave, Granger."

"What?! Didn't you hear anything I just said?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, and quite frankly, I can't deal with that shit. Tell the family im doing fine. But get out." George moved to walk towards the bedroom where he knew he left his wand to get her out of the damn flat.

"George.. Please.." Hermione felt her breathing starting to come short. _Don't cry, Don't cry, Don't cry_ she chanted in her head. "Please, just come pop in this weekend, or, monday come to Hogwarts with me!" she yelled after him as he stalked away.

George returned to the doorway, wand fisted in his hand, and finally an emotion playing on his face. Hermione took a look at his face and instantly knew that bringing up Hogwarts probably wasn't her best bargaining piece. She wanted emotion, but wasn't sure if she could deal with an angry Weasley. All the Weasley's had a fiery temper; from Ginny she would welcome a temper tantrum rather than the endless crying right now, but from George she would probably crumble.

"Out, Granger." George said with a bit of venom in the end of her last name.

"Fine, George. I'll go. But i'll be back. You can't keep hiding here forever. Let in your family in. Let them help you to heal." Hermione all but whispered the words. She didn't want to feel defeated but George was a Weasley through and through- stubborn. She wanted him to get better to not forget Fred, but to remember him with happiness. When she got to the door she turned back and looked at George who was still standing there with his wand gripped in his hand and a scowl etched onto his features.

"Fred wouldn't want you to be like this George. He would want you to be happy." and with those words Hermione shut the door softly behind her, a tear slipping down her cheek.

George didn't go through his routine that day. Instead two minutes after Granger left, at s11:07 AM he skipped ahead to the drinking part and sat on the couch with a bottle of Firewhiskey.

But really though, he thought, if Fred was here, what would he do?

George was drunk by noon that day.

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 **Ahh, chapter 3 is finished. I struggled with this one.**

 **I'd love a review and to hear what you think. Next chapter we'll start to put George back together a bit. xoxox**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Rowling- I don't own HP. She's Queen.**

" _What do you think he's doing out there?" Ron asked. They had been sitting in the tent watching Harry pace and mumble to himself for the past hour. Hunting horcruxes was hard work, but Hermione and Ron didn't know it would destroy Harry quite like this._

" _Probably wondering about Hippogriffs and butterbeer or something similar." Hermione joked. Her attempt to make light of the situation made Ron grin but he still stared out the tent at Harry._

" _He looks like a madman." Ron sprouted off, the wrinkle between his brows showing his worry._

" _Hey, Ronald, it will be okay. We'll get through this. Even if we don't know what's going on right now, it will be okay, right?" Hermione was trying to lift his mood even though her words didn't seem too convincing._

 _Ron cleared his throat, needing to move on from the conversation. He put on a bright smile, and looked at Hermione. "Let's change the subject."_

" _Sure, what should we do after horcrux hunting? Tour through Europe with the Appleby Arrows?" Hermione joked._

" _The Appleby arrows? Only if you want to watch a losing team!" Ron, obviously, would only ever go on tour with the Chudley Cannons. Hermione knew that._

" _I know 'Mione," Ron said seriously, "Let's get married!"_

 _Ron and Hermione looked at each other seriously for a moment and then both burst out laughing. Holding their sides and giggling in the tent, at the absurd thought that they would ever be a couple._

Hermione woke with a start. She sat up quickly in bed and put a hand on her heart which felt like it was going to hammer out of her chest. Tears began to leak out of her eyes and she remembered her dream. Horcrux hunting had been hell, but some nights she would dream of the conversations with Ron or Harry and would remember how important their friendship is. Or was, in Ron's case. The pain of losing Ron was still a fresh wound. He was her best friend. Hermione let the tears roll down her face, remembering Ron and her's joke about marriage. She was sure Molly would have been overjoyed at the thought of Ron and her getting married but they had always been best friends.

Hermione sighed, looked at the clock, and realized her alarm was set to go off in 15 minutes. She decided to hop in the shower a bit early and see if she could beat Molly to the kitchen to make breakfast or maybe just grab a cup of tea before leaving for Hogwarts. She loved Molly and Arthur, and was grateful that they had opened their home for her, but sometimes she would slip out before they woke up so that she didn't have to deal with the sad glances and tears that Molly had. Not that she could blame her, of course, she had lost two of her sons. Sometimes though, Hermione just needed that distance.

Hermione snuck through the kitchen, realising that nobody was awake yet. She glanced at the clock on the wall and tried not to get emotional to see Freds and Rons names pointing towards the death symbol. It was a sad reminder of what magic could do and what it could not do. A clock on the wall could predict the well being of Molly's sons and daughter, but it could not bring them back to life.

Hermione slipped out the door and to the apparition point where she whizzed off to Hogwarts to begin another day of repairs. Ginny would be annoyed that she left without her but she would catch up with her later. An apparition point had been setup so that witches and wizards could come and go to rebuild the castle. It was a large and tiring job, but it was worth it. The early morning light was reflecting off the lake when she arrived. She was the first one there, like usual, but she was sure that Neville and Luna would show up as the day went on. McGonagall would direct people and Hagrid would help move heavier objects if needed. Occasionally, you would see Molly and Arthur there also and Charlie, Percy, Bill, and Ginny often came by to help. Harry was almost as devoted as Hermione but auror training was taking up a large amount of his time now a-days.

Hermione looked towards the bridge, the largest project that needed to be repaired. No one had really started it yet but Hermione yearned for distance today. She needed the time alone. The dream with Ron had unsettled her, but that was nothing new these days. She started clearing off the bridge with her wand, so that she could see exactly the damage and what sort of spells she would need to do the repairs.

As the morning wore on, more people set to arrive. McGonagall checked in but saw Hermione needed her space. House elves stopped by with refreshments, lunch, and snacks. Although Hermione detested the use of house elves, using the amount of magic needed for repairs was hard work and the witches and wizards appreciated their efforts to keeping their energy up.

It was just after lunch when Hermione heard the sound of steps coming up behind her. She sighed, not in the mood to make conversation. Hermione turned around ready to tell them to bugger off and leave her for the day when she froze in her tracks. Standing behind her, hair down to his nape, eyes puffy, and shifting from foot to foot awkwardly was George.

"George, what are you doing here?" Hermione snapped out of her foul mood at the sight of George standing before her.

"Well, err, you mentioned that you all had been repairing Hogwarts and I figured I could help." His voice was still hoarse, like he hadn't talked much since last time she had seen him.

"That was two weeks ago, but yes, we need all the help we can get. If you want to work here with me you can. I'm using _wingardium leviosa_ to make a pile of the rubble to small to reuse and a pile of…"

"Hermione, I know how to move rubble and I see your system. I'm perfectly able of doing a first year spell to move bloody rubble around" George cut her off with an annoyed look.

Hermione stared at him, maybe her foul mood wasn't gone after all she thought. In the weeks prior, she had given George some space. Often owling him with food or notes to remind him that she was his friend. Molly also 0wled him and he at least responded to Molly with "I'm okay" or "I'm fine" or "No, i don't need anything." She wasn't upset that he hasn't answered her. She had figured that he wasn't ready yet, she was surprised to see him here. She didn't want to scare him off after him showing up here. She was worried about him but she couldn't continue to treat him like an imbecile. She turned and got her wand back out and began to move rubble around. George joined her and also began to move the rubble.

Together, they spent the day moving rubble around the bridge. Not speaking, just moving rubble about and eating when the castle elves stopped by. The next day, they moved more rubble off the bridge. Arthur joined them on the third day, tears in his eyes at the sight of his son, but joined them in their silent effort to rebuild the bridge. As the week went on various Weasleys, save Molly, stopped in to help rebuild the bridge. Each day, George struggled to look them in the eye but was thankful for their support. He never went inside the castle, the idea of seeing where Fred perish brought him to his knees and made him wish for his bottle of Firewhiskey at home.

On Friday, Hermione noticed that Fred had shaved (she was silently thankful) and that he had clean clothes on. In just a week, his gaunt cheeks had filled out a bit and while his eyes were still serious he looked more like the old George from before the war.

And for the first time, George greeted her rather then silently starting repairs with this wand.

"Morning, Granger."

"Good Morning, George."

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 **Chapter 4 is complete! Sorry for the long wait for the next chapter. I swear chapter 5 will not be as long as a wait! xoxo-E**


	5. Chapter 5

Wow! It has been awhile since I have updated this. I recently got back into writing FanFiction and realised I needed to update this story. I will be redoing a few small details in previous chapters and fixing my mistakes. I do not have a beta so I am doing my best! Thanks for everyone who has stuck around and don't forget to read and review! Xoxo.

The first part of this chapter is from DH but I have edited it to reflect George's POV.

HP belongs to JK Rowling. She is MF QUEEN.

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… _Fred looked at percy with glee. And George smiled at the two of them from across the hallway. They had their wands raised, fighting back the death eaters and Minister Thicknesse with finesse._

" _You actually are joking, Perce… . I don't think I've heard you joke since you were –"_

 _The air exploded. They had been grouped together, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and Percy, the two Death Eaters at their feet, one Stunned, the other Transfigured; and in that fragment of a moment, when danger seemed temporarily at bay, the world was rent apart. George watched it unfold from across the room. He watches his brother get buried under a pile of rubble along with the others. George felt as if time was standing still._

 _The fighting went on and George sent a incarcerous spell at the masked death eater in his haze to get to the pile of rubble. In the 30 seconds it took George to get to the pile of rubble Harry, Ron, and hermione had got up dizzily. Percy was frantic and then George saw why. Fred was buried under rubble, blood trickling over his face, eyes open and lifeless._

" _Fred" George screamed, pulling bits of rubble off his twin. Percy was tugging at his sleeve._

 _Fred Fred Fred Fred Fred Fred Fred. George just kept yelling it over and over. His sobs becoming thicker and his voice more frantic._

 _Fred Fred Fred Fred Fred Fred Fred._

/

George woke up with a start, he was sobbing and still saying Fred's name over and over. He sat straight up in bed and looked around the room. There were bottles of firewhiskey lining his bedside table but his head wasn't pounding. His sobs intensified and he scooted his back against the wall.

What the actual fuck. Why did he keep dreaming this? Why couldn't his dreams leave him alone? Why did he have to keep reliving the death of his twin. George's heart actually hurt. It felt like it was breaking in half. It had only been two months since Fred's death but why did it feel like an eternity since he had seen his twin laugh? Or play a prank on him? Life felt like a big joke at this moment. George's tears kept coming down and he laid his head in is hands. Why was this his life? Why did Fred have to die?

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! George had thought he was getting better. He thought he was moving on. He had helped at Hogwarts all last week, repairing walls and moving rubble beside Granger. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

George sat against his wall with his head in his hands for the next hour and his tears finally stopped. He glanced at the clock and realised it was 12:30 PM already. He also noted it was Sunday. He stumbled to the loo and put his hands on either side of the sink. He looked up, but there was no mirror above the sink. George had broke that the first night he had gotten drunk. He couldn't look in the mirror and see his twin staring back at him. George turned on the shower and stepped in. He went through the routine of a shower.

He got out of the shower and saw the pile of muffins that his mother had sent to Hogwarts with Hermione yesterday. There was a note inside the basket that he had yet to read but he figured that he probably should.

" _Georgie,_

 _I'm worried about you. I haven't seen you in months. Hermione told me just yesterday that you had been at Hogwarts. Why don't you stop by the Burrow for dinner this Sunday? I miss you, son. Eat a muffin, Hermione said you are terribly thin._

 _Love,_

 _Mum_ "

George stared at the note, dinner? Today? Probably not… but the muffins did look good. George grabbed a muffin and went and sat on the coach, looking around his flat. It was a right mess. George closed his eyes for a moment and his dream came back to the forefront, Fred's lifeless eyes staring up at him from a pile of rubble. George snapped his eyes open and chucked the muffin against the wall.

What the fuck? Why did the scene have to keep replaying in his mind. Would he be tortured in this way forever? George looked around the apartment again and sticking out from beneath the display case decorated with George and Fred's antique joke supplies he saw a hint of amber.

George got up and pulled out the half drank bottle of firewhisky. Well, dinner at the burrow was out, but maybe George would be able to forget his dream for the rest of the day.

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The next morning George woke up to a pounding headache, again. But he would take the heachade over having to watch Fred die in his dreams over and over again.

It was monday, last week he had helped at Hogwarts. He had liked helping at Hogwarts with Granger. She hadn't annoyed him with questions and questions but had rather let him work in peace. He glanced at the clock and sw it was already 9AM. In his drunkenness last night he had forgot to set his wand to alarm him to wake up. George skipped breakfast but hopped in the shower. His head was still pounding but he decided to apparate to Hogwarts anyways and help out a bit.

He apparated to the grounds and saw Harry talking to McGonagall not far from the apparition point. Harry looked at George in surprise. George had managed to avoid the gaze or company of most people but Granger last week. Obviously this week he wasn't so lucky. Harry started towards him but Hermione cut him off about 20 feet before he got to George. George watched as Hermione spoke to Harry, gesturing wildly with her arms. Harry glanced at George and nodded at him, George nodded back awkwardly. Then to his surprise, Harry turned and walked in the other direction and Hermione headed for George.

"What did you say to him?" George asked her as she approached.

"Just to leave you alone, you'd talk to others when you want to." Hermione told him shortly, eyeing him up and down. George looked freshly showered but he didn't look quite as good as he had on Saturday. His eyes were red and bloodshot again. "Your mum was a bit disappointed that you didn't stop in for dinner at the burrow yesterday."

George rolled his eyes, instantly defensive of whatever high horse Hermione was about to get on and turned to walk towards the bridge where they had left off last week. Hermione started after him, slightly jogging to keep up with George's long gait.

"George! Seriously! She misses you!" Hermione told him. George just kept walking towards the bridge. So much for Hermione not bothering him too much last week.

"George! She wanted to come today to see you but I've been putting her off. Why won't you see her?! She's your mum! And your dad misses you too, he's just more quiet about it! George!" Hermione huffed out in anger. Her swotty tone finally getting to George and he whipped around. His eyes angry, made Hermione stop in her tracks about 5 feet from him.

"You want to know why I didn't go to the Burrow yesterday, Granger?" George seethed at her.

"Well, yes, I do George."

"Because I didn't bloody want too!" he told her.

"Well, it's not all about you George!" Hermione shouted at him. "When are you going to stop drinking and start healing?! You think we aren't all worried about you! We all lost people in the war! Grow up George! Your mother is dying inside everyday. She lost two sons! Charlie is in Romania and you are 5 minutes away but she can't reach you!"

George stared at Granger, and she stared right back at him. Her arms were crossed over her chest. Her words ate at George's soul. How was he supposed to face his mum when he couldn't even face himself? He felt himself let out a breath and he wiped a hand over his face. Hermione saw the break behind George's eyes and took a tentative step forward.

"Oh, George. I'm sorry. I told myself I wouldn't push you… it's just hard.. Your mum crying and your dad trying to hold the family together… i just think that if you stopped by it would help you both…" Hermione trailed off multiple times, struggling to find the words.

"I just don't think I can Granger. I don't think I am ready. I close my eyes and all I see is Fred dying under a pile of rubble. I can't sleep without seeing his death replay. The only way I can get through the night is if I get sodding drunk and make myself forget Fred's dead eyes. I just can't yet." He turned and looked out over the bridge. Hermione walked up and stood beside him, looking out over the bridge as well.

"You're dreaming about his death?" Hermione asked softly.

"Every time I sleep without liquor." He surprised himself by telling her that bit.

"I'm sorry George. Keep coming to Hogwarts, I'll keep them away till your ready." Hermione said through shaky breath. George didn't really know why, but he believed her when she told him that.

Hermione turned from George and went over to the last part of the bridge, they would finish it today, and started to mend back together the bridge. George took one last look out into valley beneath the bridge and lake in the distance, and returned to work as well. They hardly spoke the rest of the day, but rather worked in synchrony, as they went. Near lunch time, Hermione disappeared into the castle and came back with sandwiches and water for them both. They ate in silence, but George could feel Hermione's eyes on him multiple times.

At 5 PM, the sun was still bright but Hermione and George pieced together the last bit of the massive bridge. It looked brand new, like it had never been destroyed before.

"Well, that's done" Hermione said "McGonagall has asked us if we would start the Gryffindor Tower tomorrow. It's a big project but she thinks we can do it in the next two weeks."

George's heart squeezed at thinking or returning to the tower without Fred but he nodded and with a final glance at Hermione started walking towards the apparition point.

"Wait, George, take this. I got it from Madam Pomfrey." Hermione jogged up to him and placed a small bundle of vials in his hands.

He pulled one out and read the label;

 _Dreamless Sleep_

 _Take ½ to 1 vial before bed. Use sparingly. Repeated uses may become addictive._

George looked up at Hermione, who had tears in her eyes. She reached out and grasped George's arm.

"Promise you'll use it? Instead of Firewhiskey?"

George gulped and looked into her eyes. Her dark brown lashes were wet but she had a small, hopeful smile on her face. He had a fleeting thought that Granger was rather pretty. He grasped the vial in his hand, like a life ring thrown out to a drowning victim, looked her in the eye, and told Hermione:

"I promise, Granger."

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We can't expect Georg to get better overnight! He lost his other ½!

Please read and review! 3

Next chapter we will see more Hermione/George action.

Xoxo, SirensandSeers


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